Congratulations Bike Nazi!

Your chains will be dripping with blood when you finish.  That means that when you reattach them to your bikes they won't catch the gears correctly.  When you stand up and try to pedal away from the horribly beaten Hispanic small business owners that you'll just have finished thrashing, the chain will just catch and throw awkwardly without meshing with the gears.

"Does anyone have any Oxyclean?" you'll ask.  None of your gang members will speak up, but the shopkeep will raise his bloody hand and let loose a single "Si."

You'll help him up and, with his assistance, find and mix the cleaning product, then apply it to your bike chain.  After a few minutes of work, your chain will be gunk free, and you'll have learned the Hispanic shopkeep isn't that bad a guy.

You'll also have been declared as somewhat unclean by your gang, so you'll have to curb Jorge in front of his weeping wife.  You'll tell him you feel bad about it, and you will, to be fair, but this is what you have to do if you don't want another, less eco-friendly white supremacist gang to take over the greater Santa Fe metro area's protection and drug rackets.

As you pedal back to your solar paneled hideout on the outskirts of town, Crutches, your second in command, will ride next to you for a while.

"S'not your fault," he'll shout into the wind at you.  "S'them spics what made ya turn gay fer a second."

You'll shake your head.

"I ain't gay for no spics," you'll shout back.  "Jus' wonder iffin' they wasn't decent folk."

You'll ride in silence after that.  Tonight, you'll fall asleep wondering if there isn't another way, a way to rule the desert with an iron fist without racially incensed violence and hate, with just financially motivated violence and hate.  You'll dream of a world where white people, black people, brown people, yellow people, even purple people, all join together to get swastika tattoos and beat the shit out of snitches, shopkeeps who don't pay, suckers who skim off the top, and goddamn kikes, all together, without concern for their differences.  Unfortunately, these dreams will be rudely interrupted when Crutches crushes your skull with a sledgehammer.  This will lead to a bloody war of succession that will spell the end of eco-friendly neo-Nazism in the New Mexican desert.  But for a few minutes, you'll have a moment of clarity wherein your dream of green crime without color lines will seem very, very possible.  Before your skull is crushed, we mean.

Congratulations Bike Nazi!